


Everything She Touches Turns to Gold

by killyourstarlings



Series: A View of the Garden [1]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, Post-Coital Cuddling, and to edward spellman, literally just fluff x12, references to Eden, zelda and lilith kissin on each other and having a rare Feelings Conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-14 17:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18952576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killyourstarlings/pseuds/killyourstarlings
Summary: “Why do you love me?” Lilith asked, like the terror she was.Her head dropped back, then, to peer upside-down at Zelda; they locked eyes, and Lilith played with her, undercut the seriousness of her tone.  She squinted up at Zelda as though it were a quirky love-me-not question, and not something that kept her awake at night, most nights.Every night.(or, Lilith and Zelda cuddle post-sex and exchange 5 questions.)





	Everything She Touches Turns to Gold

* * *

_She comes and sings to me in the night;_

_Everything she touches turns to gold._

_She leaves me guessing with my soul —_

_Like my heart, oh, she took control…_

\- “Beautiful Mess” by LOS LEO.

* * *

“What was it like?”

Warm, comfortable darkness sat on them with little give, though the far window blued with foggy night, bounced off Zelda’s shoulder.  Still-wet fingertips trailed along the skin there, cast dancing silhouettes to the tune of silence.  Lilith hummed a note to aid them in their traipse, and to promise her attention, to probe for more of a question.

“In Eden?”

Her hand stilled, a longer shadow hanging off its ends.

Lilith took care to settle her expression first.  She smoothed fingers over Zelda’s arm in hypnotic touches, as if to imprint — to memorize the patterns of goosebumps under freckles, and to ease away the chill of being bare.  A single pause, a lift away, and she drew the sheets over Zelda’s shoulder.

“I try not to go back,” Lilith muttered on no breath.

A kind of silence filled the room — or virtual silence, around the chirp of cicadas and summertime noises outside, signals of morning on approach.  If she squinted, she could catch the glint of Zelda’s gaze; then her lashes fluttered down, away.

Zelda had a talent for theatre, but she could rarely play dumb, and never hide her disappointment.

And for that, and only for that, Lilith summoned a little more out of herself — closed her eyes and, safe in the indigo, let herself remember.

“It was… quiet,” Lilith recalled, bit at her lip, bore it down to facts.  “Loud sometimes, but mostly quiet.  Windy from all directions, but always warm, always…”

Moonlight moved behind her lids; a hand caught Lilith’s loose hair and tucked it back, out of the light.  Fingertips lingered there, traced the outline of her ear and the slope of her jaw — a tender touch she hadn’t invited, a grounding she hadn’t had to request.  She sank into the contact.

The warmth, she remembered, like an embrace so tight she couldn’t breathe.  Her eyes flicked through memories, searching for some kind of anecdote that wouldn’t draw her down to nakedness in Zelda’s perfect view.

“So much newness,” she said, almost fondly.  “New plants, new tastes, sneaking into everything; new creatures, every day, but they never came near.  Like a whole world wanted to break in, but something pushed it away, tried to keep us pure.”

That got a hum of interest; Lilith bled with relief.  She laid a hand over Zelda’s, stilled it over her own pulse, and sighed.

“There was… a sense of dread that would pass over, whenever He would come around,” she remembered vividly.  “It was as if everything knew, and held its breath, and waited for punishment — and when He sent rains down, we’d shudder under the trees, and sing songs while we thought He couldn’t hear us.  Songs that weren’t about Him, songs that were…”

She could get so close if she tried, enough to feel the splinters in her feet and the wind in the branches, threatening to knock her down if she didn’t hurry and take her peek.  She could feel His cloud loom over, peer in on her, even now…

She opened her eyes, and Zelda was still there, watching Lilith with some kind of passive fascination.  Her brow furrowed in listening, cast shadows on her face, as though Lilith were something to chew.

“We hid our sins so well,” Lilith whispered, smoothed the sheets over them, “for a while.”

Her arm settled around Zelda, drawing her in like a more private sin; and Zelda melted into her, pliant and sleepy and given to Lilith already.  Her own hand busied itself in Lilith’s hair, tugging out a strand at a time and laying it neatly on the pillow, quietly undoing her knots.  Lilith lifted her head occasionally, let her pull a few strands out from underneath, resume her work.

The sun inched its way against the clouds, and Lilith thought of a question.

“What was he like?” she asked — and hoped to never be asked the same.

Zelda’s gaze lifted from where she’d gotten lost in Lilith’s hair; she twitched a smile, but it wasn’t quite happy.  She sighed, glanced up at the ceiling as she considered her answer.

“Kind,” she said first, her hand stalling.  “Ambitious.  Naive.  An absolute headache in school.”

Lilith grinned, and Zelda almost did — tried to do so, it seemed, until her head fell back to the pillow.

“He wanted everything in the world and its inverse, and he couldn’t be content with less,” Zelda continued to the ceiling.  She sighed, either frustrated or wistful.  “Some days, I wish I were more like him.”

Head turning, she set her eyes on Lilith; and there was something weighted in her gaze, like the eyes of a painting following her.  Zelda’s hand returned to her hair, twisted it along her fingers.

“Some days, I worry I already am,” she confessed.

Even in the darkness, and even in the blur of closeness, Lilith felt incredibly witnessed — Zelda’s gaze flitting between her eyes, over her neck, along her skin as though it went for miles.  She regarded her with held breath, as though she asked too much, or waited for something vain.

“If I could have-”

“My turn,” Zelda decided, before Lilith could express that particular pity.

Lilith let the words go in a sigh.  She rolled in closer, instead, head finding Zelda’s shoulder and making home there.

The pressure eased as Zelda’s gaze turned to the window, a little brighter now.  Her hand played over Zelda’s stomach, felt her anxious breath firsthand, there.  Lilith soothed circles over her as she rose and fell in constant rhythm.

“You’ve seen… everything.”

Lilith huffed into her shoulder.  “Not remotely.”

“Most things,” Zelda amended — neck curling, ticklish under Lilith’s lashes.  Her throat vibrated at Lilith’s lips.  “More than we could…”

She took a breath there, as if to continue the thought, but decidedly didn’t.  Lilith was patient.  She kissed at Zelda’s pulse, and grazed nails over her ribs, and was patient.

A bird chirped outside, the first to do so.  Zelda cleared her throat.

“Can you be happy here, for long?” she finally asked.  “With… us?”

_With me_ , Lilith heard somewhere under there.

Humming to herself, she leaned down and caught a kiss on Zelda’s collarbone.  She marked a trail along the paling of her skin, the speckles in the valleys…

“Would you believe me,” Lilith began, and kissed the inside of her breast, “if I told you that _this_ ,” over the swell, a long, suctioned kiss, “is the longest I’ve been happy?”

Another kiss, loud and clever — she drew back to look up at her.  Her smile faded, though, at the grief in Zelda’s eyes.

“I’d hope you were lying,” she said.

Two birds sang now; a little crack in the clouds, and some sunlight poured onto the field outside.  Lilith resolved not to tell Zelda that this was true, and that she clung to it for all it was worth.  Instead, she returned to her ministrations.

They didn’t speak like this often — not that they were incapable of it, or anything else, but because there was rarely the need or opportunity.  It was the intimate snag between sleep and waking, or maybe the aftermath of being fucked into oblivion, that inspired Lilith to delve a little deeper, search for what stung.

“Why do you love me?” Lilith asked, like the terror she was.

Her head dropped back, then, to peer upside-down at Zelda; they locked eyes, and Lilith played with her, undercut the seriousness of her tone.  She squinted up at Zelda as though it were a quirky love-me-not question, and not something that kept her awake at night, most nights.

Every night.

But Zelda wasn’t fooled, and took the question to heart.  Her eyes wandered over Lilith in deep thought, as if there were a hundred answers to this question, or none at all.

Then Zelda turned to face her, hair spilling down into Lilith’s vision, but she cleared it away.  She peered down over Lilith with a hint of a grin.

“Because of your smile,” she said, lowly, and thumbed over Lilith’s lips, “and the way I chase after it.”

Lilith didn’t intend it, but she smiled at that — blushed at how Zelda’s eyes went round on her.  She accepted Zelda’s kiss when it came for her, upside-down and a bit clumsy until her hand guided Lilith into place.  And if Lilith were asked the same question, those hands would be the answer — always soft, and always gentle — making her grin, making her _moan_ …

Zelda broke away too early, and Lilith whined at that; but Zelda looked down on her like something fallen from heaven, and that was fine, too.  She wiped at the corner of Lilith’s mouth, pressed her lips together.

“Because of your strength,” Zelda muttered.  “Because I feed off it, like a parasite.”

This was said casually, and she did such damage to herself that way, in the smallest strokes.  Lilith soured — bit at her finger playfully, tickled it with her tongue — reminded her to smile, again.  That was better.

Zelda sighed a deep sigh, then, and it drew everything out of her.  She gazed down sleepily, in slow blinks.

“Because I can’t stop.”

And Lilith closed her eyes, as if to block that out.  It didn’t work, of course, but it lessened the pang of affection.

Lips found her forehead, and she pressed up against the touch — furrowed her brow, tried to accept what she was given without chasing after more.  But Zelda kissed her again, and longer, and Lilith let out a weak sound…

And that was the tentative end of the discussion, it seemed.  Gray went gold outside and just touched the edge of the bed, one stripe, reminding them they’d missed the night.  Lilith fell from her lips, neck gone tired; her head dropped back, and she peeked up at Zelda, whose eyes still hung shut.

Lilith smiled to herself.  She burrowed into Zelda’s shoulder and hid from the sunlight.

It was only when she’d nearly drifted to sleep, tarrying in that halfway place that held them so warmly, that Zelda asked something sharp.

“Will you love again,” she asked, as though she didn’t want to know the answer at all, “after I’m gone?”

Her breath caught, fizzled out in the silence.

With her remaining energy, Lilith lifted her head, though she couldn’t meet Zelda’s closed eyes.  She bit her cheek in thought — studied the strain in Zelda’s expression, as though she labored over the mere idea.  Lilith sat up straighter.

When Zelda finally looked at her, Lilith had to lower her gaze somewhere on Zelda’s skin.

“Well, the beauty of your choice,” Lilith said, voice just barely breaking a whisper, “you see, is that I can follow you out.”

The statement was met with silence.  She didn’t look up for quite some time.

Ultimately, Zelda didn’t respond; but the breath that had been seized in her chest for weeks now — the tension in her arms where she held Lilith down to earth — finally released.  When Lilith did risk a glance, she found Zelda slumping to sleep, cheek squished against the pillow.

This wasn’t the end of her confessions, by far.  Lilith didn’t know how to tell her that she’d follow her anywhere — didn’t know how to worship that deeply without losing herself in it, and worried she already had.

But the sun rose as they fell, and Zelda was so content with just that, and so celestial where the light caught on her corners.  She faded before Lilith’s eyes, waned with the few hours they had left, and Lilith was already on her heels…

So Lilith let the thought die, measured herself for now.  Perhaps she shouldn’t say too much, for fear of waking either of them.

* * *

_Don't wake me up,_

_Even though I might need it._

_Don't wake me up..._

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was completely self-indulgent. I just felt like relaxing into their characters and having some fun, and I enjoyed myself, so I hope you enjoyed too :) Leave a review to renew my life force.


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